


Moonshine

by desole (tearyxz)



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, OT7, Sexual References, Supernatural Elements, but nothing explicit, fae mages nymphs werewolves and all that fun stuff, implied dubcon thanks to the inclusion of incubi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:42:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearyxz/pseuds/desole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man was handsome - bold brows framing almond shaped eyes, a strong jaw and surprisingly pretty lips. But not so handsome that it justified why he was suddenly frozen in place, mind growing foggy, blood rushing up to his face as well as down south.</p><p>There was something dangerously alluring about him, and the way the darkness clung to his shadows should’ve been a warning sign. But he was already caught, and it was too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU just hit me out of the blue one day and was never supposed to happen (like most of my wips that probably will never see the light of day hahh), but once the first chapter hit 7k I thought screw it so here we are, I've posted and we'll see what happens rip
> 
> A quick note, while this is clearly AU and honestly has nothing to do with Korea (as a setting), writing Got7's interaction without honorifics just threw me off so much I ended up keeping it...so oops? Just bear with me on that lol

~~

Wonpil felt extremely uncomfortable.

The music was too loud, the lights too flashy, and by his fifth drink he was only feeling nauseous rather than relaxed. He tried to tell Jae as much, but the guy was too busy throwing down shots with Brian to pay him any attention.

Wonpil pressed a hand to his head, wincing at a particularly loud shriek of laughter that managed to penetrate through the usual clamor of the club. Hazily, he fumbled for his wallet, laying down a couple of bills before pushing himself to his feet.

He’d wanted to go home right after work to be honest, but Jae had insisted on a “boy’s night out,” looping an arm around his shoulder to drag him along when he’d attempted to refuse. Wonpil knew Jae meant well, he’d been overworking himself lately and was stressed beyond words, but drinking and partying had never been his preferred way to unwind.

But what was done was done, and all Wonpil was planning on for the rest of this night was crashing in his own bed. If he was reading his watch correctly, it was only around midnight, and if he left now he’d be able to get enough sleep before he had to get up early the next day.

It was when he almost reached the door that he saw _him_.

A young man, decked out in black with dark, styled hair and deep, midnight eyes to match. His getup was quite typical for the club, a form fitting tee with ripped black jeans.

Wonpil’s breath caught in his throat, eyes traveling up to the man’s face and found himself unable to tear his eyes away.

He was handsome - bold brows framing almond shaped eyes, a strong jaw and surprisingly pretty lips. But not _so_ handsome that it justified why Wonpil was suddenly frozen in place, mind growing foggy, blood rushing up to his face as well as down south.

There was something dangerously alluring about the man, and the way the darkness clung to his shadows should’ve been a warning sign. But Wonpil was already caught, and it was too late.

Luckily, the danger was only relative. Wonpil would wake up the next morning with all parts of his body safe and intact, not a single new mark on his skin. He wouldn’t even have any sign of a hangover, the only thing awry being his patchy memory from the night before.

Well, that, and the sticky mess between his sheets.

~~

Jinyoung inhaled deeply when he stepped into the bar, relishing in the musky scent of lust that was essentially woven into the air. He didn’t pursue any particular strand, however, having already taken his fill just barely an hour before. He sauntered towards the front, taking his time to enjoy the sensual atmosphere. Moonshine was the most highly attended, magicfolk-exclusive bar in the city, so no one ever held back in pursuing their pleasures and vices.

For its reputation, one might've expected a bigger space and classier decor. But at first glance it appeared quite typical; a central bar where drinks were served occupied the front, a raised stage surrounded by a dancefloor sensibly situated in the center. Other tables and chairs littered the outside perimeter, though by the end of the night almost nothing would be left where it'd been originally placed.

But upon closer inspection, it was possible to notice a few things that set Moonshine apart. First, despite the massive crowd of customers and the sheer number of orders, there was only one bartender. Incredibly renowned, his concoctions were unrivalled in the area, be it in regards to quality or creativity. Many would come solely for the alcoholic experience, for the extra punch packed in the magic-infused beverages. So even if orders took longer than usual no one ever complained, though that was hardly ever a problem to begin with.

The other highlight of Moonshine was much less subtle, taking place on the raised stage in the center of the dancefloor. Almost every night some unique performance started promptly at midnight, ranging from succubi seduction, to fairy dances, to even the rarest siren songs.

Tonight was no exception. Jinyoung wasn’t one to be easily impressed by hat tricks and charming smiles, but the fae “magician” currently occupying the stage wasn’t merely flirting with party tricks. A water dragon - a massive, shimmering body of translucent liquid spanning from the ground to the heightened ceiling - held the rapture of every audience member, each sway of its torso spraying water droplets down on the excited clubbers.

A mere illusion, animated spectacularly by the performer, the only giveaway being the lack of sensation upon contact with the sparkling droplets that rained down.

Moonshine wasn’t considered the best magicfolk bar in the area for nothing, after all.

Upon reaching the bar, Jinyoung barely managed to take a seat before he was greeted by a very familiar teasing voice.

“Well, someone fed well tonight.”

It was the bartender who spoke - Jackson, a stocky shapeshifter who couldn’t help but shoot Jinyoung a dirty grin as he looked him up and down. There wasn’t anything too obvious from Jinyoung’s appearance in particular, but the glow in his eyes and the flush of his cheeks were symptoms all too recognizable to this old friend.

“So what if I did?” Jinyoung responded lazily, shifting in his seat just as Jackson slid a drink in front of him. “The guy looked so vanilla, but he actually had quite a number of interesting fantasies. And kinks,” he added, almost like an afterthought.

“Did he really?” Jackson’s grin widened, setting his elbows down on the bartop as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Do tell.”

Jinyoung considered for a moment, only to shake his head, licking his lips. “No, can’t be doing that. That’d be a breach of confidentiality.”

Jackson scoffed, standing back upright. “As if. What do you know about confidentiality? Besides, it's not like anything you do is even real.”

“Hey,” Jinyoung finally took a sip of his drink, swirling it slightly so the ice clinked against the inside of the glass, “Even if I haven’t _physically_ done anything with them, it doesn't mean it's not real. Dreams are so much more than just the fancies of someone's imagination, you should know better than that.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond to the ridiculous question as he grabbed a new glass and bottle for his next order. “Some incubus you are, when’s even the last time you’ve gotten yourself off? Like _actually_ with a human, and not just in a dream you weave?”

Jinyoung shrugged as he took another gulp of his drink, unperturbed by Jackson’s not-so-subtle jab, “I get high off on their high, that’s all I need. Besides, if I can accomplish everything within a dream, why do more work?”

“Showoff,” Jackson muttered petulantly, shaking his head as he finally moved away to serve his other customers.

Jinyoung only smirked, counting this conversation as a victory despite the fact that Jackson never saw it as a competition to begin with. But Jinyoung was competitive by nature, yet somehow also lazy, which made for quite the interesting combination.

Jackson was right about one thing, at least. It was rare for incubi to not have physical contact with their victims, since it was the raw, sexual pleasure they fed on to survive. The older and more powerful of their kind often used dream manipulation to their advantage, but using exclusively dreams was nearly unheard of.

There was no guarantee, after all, that the fruition of dreams would carry over to the physical realm.

Jinyoung, however, had long since mastered this particular art. He’d always been rather skilled at picking up on his victims’ most secret and intense desires, so the dreams he wove possessed an added personal touch, each nearly entirely unique.

Jinyoung relished in these challenges, and the rush of satisfaction when he succeeded was a delicious bonus he wasn’t planning on relinquishing anytime soon.

Nearly finished with his drink, Jinyoung was already starting to feel a bit buzzed, casting his gaze out idly towards the dancefloor. He’d always been more susceptible to the effects of alcohol right after feeding, not to mention the alcohol served here was no mere mortal brew.

Jinyoung’s eyes didn’t linger on anyone in particular, simply drifting over the crowd. If anyone was to peer into his eyes at this moment, they’d see the haze settled in his orbs, the post-feeding rush of contentment taking over his body as he worked to digest what he reaped earlier in the night.

When his gaze landed on two familiar figures, however, the trance was suddenly broken. Jinyoung’s eyes widened, attention snapping to focus as he confirmed the identity of the two beings huddled in the corner of the room; a familiar pixie, as well as a golem Jinyoung was absolutely not expecting to see.

“Jackson!” Jinyoung slammed a hand down on the bartop, sending his nearly empty glass skidding across the ebony surface.

“What?” Jackson appeared at just the right moment to deftly steady the glass before it managed to tip over the edge of the counter. “Need another drink?”

Jinyoung’s eyes flashed in response, crossing his arms as he jerked his chin towards the corner of room. Jackson followed his gaze, confused, only to blanch when he realized what had set the incubus off.

“I thought I told you to have that golem blacklisted!” Jinyoung’s voice was uncharacteristically shrill, uncrossing his arms to grab Jackson’s collar, even standing up to emphasize his point. “What the hell is he doing here? And with Bambam?”

“Jinyoung, Jinyoung, I’m just a bartender, I can’t watch for everyone who walks in through that door,” Jackson forcibly pried Jinyoung’s fingers off his shirt, but his voice was pleading. “And you know how Bam is… it’s not like I can control him…”

The second sentence was said slightly bitterly, clearly a sore spot for the usually optimistic shapeshifter. Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t back down.

“Are you kidding me, just a bartender my ass. You own this goddamn place. Get the two of them over here.”

Jinyoung settled back down in his seat with a huff, shoulders stiff and expression stony. Jackson sighed, lifting his fingers to his mouth.

The whistle was shrill, beyond the frequencies of what humans were capable of hearing. For most magicfolk, on the other hand, the pitch remained well within the comfortable range, so no one in the vicinity even bothered to react. Bambam, however, immediately took note, nudging his companion to look towards its source.

It took a few moments for the duo to approach, during which Jackson’s eyes started to flit nervously between the three of them.

“Hyung, what’s up? I already told you, Yugyeom and I aren’t drinking tonight so you don’t - ” Bambam broke off with a choked noise when he finally realized who was sitting in front of Jackson, and the taller boy behind him also stiffened. “J-Jinyoung-hyung?”

“Oh, so you still see me as your hyung?” Jinyoung said icily, “Then what in the world are you doing with him again?” He jabbed a finger towards the golem behind Bambam, but pointedly refused to look him in the eye.

Bambam had started to look guilty, but with Jinyoung’s second sentence he quickly turned defiant, firmly shielding the much taller boy behind him. The sight would’ve been comical, if not for the fiercely protective look on the pixie’s face.

“Hyung! That’s unfair! It’s not Yugyeom’s fault you and Jaebum-hyung are so screwed up!” Feeling threatened, Bambam went straight for the kill, paling at his own words but still standing his ground. Jackson had immediately winced, gesturing frantically behind Jinyoung’s back for the impulsive pixie to stop, but the damage was already done.

“Yugyeom’s magically bound to never betray Jaebum, and you think I’m supposed to trust him?” Jinyoung hissed, standing up again to look Bambam in the eye. “So you’re on their side now?”

“Hyung!” Bambam was thoroughly exasperated, struggling to take on a more pleading tone. “It’s not about sides! Yugyeom wants to see you two fix things just as much as the rest of us!”

At these words, Jinyoung finally allowed his eyes to drift to Yugyeom, taking in his conflicted expression and uncertain posture as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. When Yugyeom finally realized Jinyoung was looking at him, he jerked, mouth opening as if to say something, but Jinyoung didn’t give him the opportunity.

“Fine, do whatever you want. I’m done here,” Jinyoung said spitefully, spinning on his heel to stalk out of the bar. He didn’t spare a single look backwards, proceeding onwards with his head held high, leaving the other three to stare after him helplessly.

When the door swung shut, Jackson sighed, lifting a hand to rub his brow tiredly.

“That jerk, he didn’t even pay.”

~~

After their rather unhappy confrontation with Jinyoung, Bambam’s mood for clubbing had been completely spoiled. So it wasn’t long after Jinyoung departed that the two of them also took their leave, bidding Jackson good night slightly sheepishly for causing such a disturbance.

As of current, they were wandering rather aimlessly around the streets, Bambam taking his residual frustration out on anything within kicking distance.

There was more activity on the streets than one might expect at 2AM in the morning, and certain hotspot areas could almost be described as bustling. A rowdy group of vamps could be heard from around the block, and just as many tipsy fairies floated around the streetlamps, giggling and crashing into passerby’s.

Every once in awhile they’d spot a human, too, but they almost always took care to stay close to the lamp-lit sidewalk, eyeing their surroundings warily as they hurried along. One would be hard pressed to find a human drunk at night in this part of town.

To say the city was completely segregated would be ridiculous, as many magicfolk even lead human-like lives during the day. But humans knew better than to cross into southside once the sun went down, especially not inhibited and alone.

After watching the pixie send his nth empty beer can flying through the air with a well-aimed kick, Yugyeom finally spoke up.

“Bam, aren’t those new shoes?” Yugyeom asked tentatively, hopeful when Bambam finally paused in his step.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Bambam said thoughtfully, bending down to rub at a leathered tip, “I just filched these off a businessman last week. He was talking smack about his wife behind her back.”

“Ah.” Yugyeom nodded, not the least bit questioning.

Bambam always seemed to need to justify his actions, but Yugyeom never found the explanations to be necessary. Pixies were mischievous by nature and Bambam could be an absolute menace, but the fact of the matter was they weren’t malicious. For every trick he played and every item he stole, he almost always gave back in some way to those who were deserving.

Take yesterday, when the two of them happened upon a young human couple, both quite frantic because they’d dropped one of their wedding rings down into the sewers. The woman had been quite inconsolable, and while the man had looked quite stricken himself, he directed all his attention towards comforting his wife, assuring her it’d be okay and that he wasn’t upset.

Bambam had simply watched on for a few minutes, contemplative, before smiling softly and assuming his true form. The glamour prevented the humans from seeing the transformation, so Yugyeom wasn’t sure exactly what it was they saw, but he himself had quite a fondness for Bambam’s original body. The pixie stood only about four inches high, indigo irises occasionally flashing with gold as he blinked. Violet gossamer wings fluttered delicately behind him, never ceasing their movement even when he stood still.

In the end, it only took Bambam a minute to flit down in between the bars of the drain, easily retrieving the very muddy but overall unharmed golden ring.

It reminded Yugyeom of a job Jaebum had been commissioned for just a few months ago. It’d been a similar situation, a married human couple who’d lost their wedding bands, mustering up the courage to ask the powerful mage for assistance. Except Jaebum had charged them astronomically for the favor, four times the value of the missing rings, to be exact. He’d put on a whole show, too, for the summoning of the lost jewels, when in reality the retrieval charm had been completed in seconds.

Yugyeom had to concede, however, that that particular couple had been filthy rich. If Jaebum had no problem ripping them off, then Yugyeom held no qualms, either.

Regardless, he still found Bambam to be somewhat morally superior to Jaebum, not that he’d ever tell either of them that.

They walked on in silence for a while longer, Bambam no longer kicking everything that came conveniently within his foot’s reach. Yugyeom knew he wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for long, though, and was quickly proven correct.

“What really happened? Between Jinyoung-hyung and Jaebum-hyung?” Bambam finally asked, sighing as he looked up at Yugyeom. Yugyeom fidgeted, thrown off slightly by the question.

“I can’t...I can’t say,” Yugyeom bit his lip, eyes apologetic. “I’m not supposed to say.”

“Did Jaebum forbid you?” Bambam frowned, concern heavy in his gaze. “Did he make you swear?”

Bambam’s second question was asked with more forcefulness than the first, something dark flashing across his face for just a fraction of a second before being suppressed. It was an expression Yugyeom recognized, though, his heart dropping as he couldn’t find it in himself to make eye contact.

So Bambam took Yugyeom’s silence as a yes.

Almost immediately Bambam’s anger returned in a hot rush, further fueled by Jinyoung’s words back at the bar. He took two quick steps towards Yugyeom so they were nearly touching chest to chest, huffing and glaring as he craned his neck upwards.

“If you had to choose between Jaebum and I, you’d choose Jaebum, wouldn’t you?” Bambam’s tone was accusatory, leaving no room for Yugyeom to defend himself. His eyes flashed with gold in a rare slip of control, and Yugyeom felt his mouth go dry.

“Bam…” Yugyeom said weakly, as imploring as he could. He didn’t know what else to say, or what else he could say, for that matter. He could only stare back at Bambam beseechingly, hoping he’d understand.

Slowly, Bambam’s aggressive stance softened, shoulders sagging as he took in a shaky breath. He swallowed, the gold in his eyes receding as they moistened instead.

“I know, I know it’s not fair to ask something like that. I’m sorry.” Bambam scrunched his eyes shut, pressing the palms of his hands against them. “I just, I hate it. I know you don’t mind it, but that just makes me hate it more.”

“I’m sorry,” Yugyeom said softly, reaching out to pull Bambam’s hands away from his face.

But before he could make contact, Bambam had sprung away, defensive once again.

“Why are you apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry for!” Bambam glared, spitting out his words fiercely. “I’m selfish, okay, I know that! You don’t need to remind me, alright? I -”

Bambam broke off, breathing uneven, but it wasn’t because he’d run out of breath that he’d stopped. It was the stricken look on Yugyeom’s face, the guilt and worry that wasn’t supposed to be there that had snapped him out of it, and suddenly his own guilt was back again, along with a desperate need to flee the situation.

“I-I’m sorry,” Bambam stammered, eyes wide and panicked. “I-I think I should go, I’ll -”

Bambam didn’t manage to finish his sentence, already transforming the next second in a swirl of dark blues and purple. Transformation complete, he spared one last look at Yugyeom, apologetic, before turning and bolting.

A bittersweet taste spread in Yugyeom’s mouth as he watched Bambam fly off. The hint of sweetness was because he knew Bambam was only reacting this way because he cared, and there wasn’t a feeling he could cherish more.

But the bitterness was a bit stronger this night. With his silence, he knew he’d confirmed Bambam’s suspicions of Jaebum restricting him somehow. But the truth couldn’t be further from those assumptions. If anything, Jaebum had only ever given him freedom.

Yugyeom was a golem, molded from earth, clay, and mud, raised from inanimate materials by magic to form a semi-living creature. To be more accurate, an anthropomorphic being whose sole living purpose was to serve his creator. A giant, mindless puppet, if you will.

He eventually came into Jaebum’s possession after Jaebum had defeated his original creator, another powerful mage, but evidently not as powerful as Jaebum.

And it was Jaebum who gave him true life. Not just the ability to move or obey, but the ability to think, to possess an identity, a concept of self. Jaebum had given him _sentience_ , a priceless gift, and it was at that moment that Yugyeom had been truly born.

Jaebum, despite his various moral faults and selfish ways, would never and had never treated Yugyeom any lesser than an equal living being. The only other magic binding them together was an oath he’d asked Yugyeom to take, ensuring Yugyeom would never betray him. It was a magical pledge Yugyeom had taken willingly, already surprised by how little was being asked of him. Betrayal itself was a word up for interpretation, and Jaebum was by no means careless, making it clear just how much he was leaving up to Yugyeom’s discretion. Besides, the oath had seemed like such a small price to pay in exchange for a free will.

So no, he didn’t tell Bambam the truth for another reason entirely. The truth was Yugyeom himself had a hand in the mess between Jinyoung and Jaebum. Jinyoung knew everything about his involvement, thus his current hostility towards him.

It’d been for Jaebum’s sake and at Jaebum’s request, yes, but Yugyeom hadn’t been forced into it. Bambam wouldn’t see it that way, though, and the severity of the incident would surely only exacerbate his hatred for the mage.

And while the pixie had willingly stood up to Jinyoung for Yugyeom’s sake, Yugyeom wasn’t sure that’d still be the case if the truth was known. So with that additional selfish reason, Yugyeom could only stay silent for now.

Yugyeom sighed, looking up to see the waxing moon, the distant stars appearing even fainter under the bright moonlight.

Now, he just had to go home and deal with Jaebum.

~~

It was just past 3AM that Jackson managed to close up shop, shooing the last of his drunken customers out. He yawned as he reached to lock the front door, but not before a gust of wind managed to escape inside, the force of it making Jackson’s eyes water.

“You’re back?” Jackson somehow managed to get out mid-yawn, fumbling with his keys. His sleep schedule was completely off at this point, thanks to the fact that Moonshine reopened as a coffee shop during the day. They didn’t operate early morning, though, allowing him to sleep in till around eleven before opening back up to catch the afternoon crowd. Magicfolk tended to be creatures of habit, and certain species were quite picky about the time of day they were out and about. Jackson had found it was much more profitable to catch both sides of the spectrum, and where profit was involved, you could always count him in.

“Mmhmm.” A man materialized from the air, translucent at first before solidifying, landing lightly on the ground. His tousled blonde hair should’ve looked messy, yet the windswept style only exuded a carefree feel. He was rather slim, but his movements displayed a powerful grace that suggested anything but fragility.

“Why am I friends with a bunch of showoffs, man,” Jackson complained, but his smile gave his true sentiments away, pulling the other man in for a hug. “Mornin’, Mark.”

“It’s still dark out, you know,” Mark replied mildly, but returned the gesture fondly. “Also, you can’t lump me into the same category as Jinyoung, he’s an outlier even among his own species. I’m just a normal sylph.”

Jackson rolled his eyes as he pulled back from the hug. “How did you know I was talking about Jinyoung? And yeah, sure, as normal as an invisible air spirit can be.”

This managed to pull a laugh out of Mark, elbowing Jackson in the ribs lightly.

“You should go to bed,” Mark reminded him. “Otherwise you’re going to be a mess again in the morning.”

“What do you I’m going to be a mess _again_ ?” Jackson spluttered, shooting Mark an exaggerated, reproachful look. “Seriously, this is so unfair! You save my life _once_ and I have to put up with all this bullying forever, even sucking my money dry with free room and board, and -”

“Okay, okay,” Mark laughed, shoving Jackson away and towards the back stairs. “As if you really want me gone, who’d make sure this place doesn’t burn down in the morning when you’re serving coffees still half asleep? And besides, it’s only one room that I share with Youngjae, no board involved. I’m fine on my own, but you’re really going to kick the only dryad in the entire city out?”

Jackson had been joking to begin with, yet Mark had dismantled his complaints so mercilessly anyways. Jackson’s lip curled petulantly, mumbling his next words, “You’re still a show off, it’s not my fault I’m not an air spirit who doesn’t need sleep.”

“So you should go sleep,” Mark countered and Jackson groaned, tossing his hands up.

“I can never win against you, fine, fine, I’m off to bed,” Jackson grumbled, muttering under his breath as he turned to walk away. He made it to the base of the stairs before he finally stopped, turning to look at Mark over his shoulder, expression unusually serious. “By the way, have you heard about the human deaths recently?”

Mark had been ready shut Jackson down again, to tell him to stop stalling and just go to bed already, but paused at the solemness of Jackson’s tone. Mark shifted his weight as he tried to recall, frowning slightly. “Yeah, I’ve heard some stuff. I think it was the fourth killing of the month today or something, done by some magicfolk? I didn’t pay too much attention though, why?”

Jackson shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I heard a couple of people mention it tonight is all, thought you’d know more. Even though they know it’s one of us who’s responsible, apparently they’ve been struggling to determine which species exactly. Whoever’s doing it is taking care to clean up.”

Mark’s frown deepened slightly at the new information. Usually, magical signatures were fairly easy to pick up.

“Really? That’s weird, I didn’t pay much attention to it since it didn’t really pertain to us. Maybe I should.”

“Eh, it probably still won’t affect us, was just curious,” Jackson waved it off. “On the other hand, something that does pertain to us is Jinyoung and Jaebum.” Although his tone had lightened at the shift in topic, there was an undeniable worry in Jackson’s eyes.

“Really? Didn’t they already breakup?” Mark raised an eyebrow, confused. “Are they back together again or something?”

“I wish,” Jackson snorted. “Even if they never got back together again I’d be okay with it, if they just moved on already. But Jinyoung’s not letting go of it and even wanted me to blacklist Yugyeom for whatever reason, and you can guess how that went over with Bambam…”

“Yikes,” Mark could definitely imagine, he’d had quite a few of his own run-ins with the stubborn pixie. “What’s Jaebum’s stance?”

Jackson shook his head, “No idea, he hasn’t been doing anything, I don’t think. It’s really just Bambam and Yugyeom thaaahhhh-” Jackson’s words were interrupted by a yawn, his body pitching sideways to lean against the banister as his eyes slipped shut.

“Go to sleep, we can finish talking in the morning.” It was now Mark’s turn to shake his head fondly as Jackson tried to nod in response, caught up in a second yawn as he waved once before finally giving up and trudged up the stairs.

Mark had a soft smile on his face as he watched Jackson’s back slowly disappear on the second floor landing. His eyes narrowed slightly once Jackson was out of view, thinking back to what the shapeshifter had said. But his expression cleared the next second, brushing off the concerns to worry about later.

Instead, he padded over to one of the backrooms, swinging open the first black door he came to. It was lushly decorated, a thick blue carpet covering the floor and a black leather couch pushed up against the wall. Other furniture included tables and chairs, and even an upright piano on the opposite end.

Contrary to one’s intuition, these rooms were not for lustful who wandered towards the back in search of a place to find release. Rather, they were only reservable by those willing to pay up a nice additional sum, usually the so-called elite who wished to drink in a less chaotic environment. A good number of secret meetings were held in these rooms as well, but Jackson was always rather tightlipped about those.

But for now, Mark was the one who had the luxury of occupying this space, sinking down onto the couch to wait for dawn.

~~

Just as Mark anticipated, Youngjae awoke promptly at sunrise, his familiar footfalls rousing Mark from the trance he’d slipped into. While it was true that sylphs didn’t need to sleep, they could still slip into sleep-like trances if they wished, if anything to help pass the time.

“Hyung!” Youngjae beamed at him, plopping down on the couch beside him. “Ready to go?”

“Whenever you are,” Mark ruffled the tree nymph’s hair fondly, “You’re quite perky this morning.”

With only the two of them here, Youngjae hadn’t bothered with a human form, fully at ease in all his dryad glory. His hair was bristly under Mark’s touch, but it wasn’t an unpleasant texture, his brown eyes bright behind his green lashes. Frankly, nearly all of him was some shade of green or brown, his body a combination of flexible greenery and sturdy brown wood. An array of leaves and vines wove together to form some semblance to clothing, an added touch to keep up with the modern mode of decency.

“You noticed?” Youngjae scratched behind his ear shyly. “I was planning on visiting the northern woods today, it’s been so long!”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Mark mused, trying to think back. Almost half a year, probably. Which wasn’t that long for magicfolk, nearly all of whom were essentially immortal, but Mark knew how much that stretch of land meant to Youngjae. The forest nymph used to live near the northern woods, so it was no wonder he was so excited to go back and visit.

Dryads almost always lived in groups, working together as a community to nurture whatever woodland or forest they called their home. Youngjae, too, had belonged to such a community, living just a ways out from a little town. Except over time, this small town had grown to be the second largest city on the continent.

It was only natural for the dryads to migrate deeper into the woodlands as a result, but Youngjae alone had chosen to stay, to protect the remaining patches of green scattered throughout the city. No dryad would ever be doubted for their dedication to the natural world, but Youngjae had always gone above and beyond.

Fellow dryads had attempted to persuade him otherwise, but Youngjae remained unmoved, determined to guard the greenery now surrounded by concrete, metal, and plastic. Forest nymphs were far from weak on their own, but still drew most their power from the very nature they protected. Youngjae was undoubtedly weakened in the city, constantly surrounded by the stench of fuel and scorching asphalt.

Luckily for him, or maybe it was fate, through the interference of three trolls and an injured birch tree, he managed to make the acquaintance of the only sylph in the city. The only one in this province, in actuality. And ever since then he hadn’t had to worry about his own well-being, but that was a story for a different time.

And here they were today.

“I need to get back before Moonshine opens for the day, so we better get going,” Mark pushed himself to his feet and Youngjae quickly followed suit. “You okay with taking the train? It should only take a little over an hour.”

Youngjae grimaced, nose scrunching up as a few of his leaves shuddered. Mark patted his hand apologetically, moving past him to open the door.

“I’ll be fine,” Youngjae finally conceded with a sigh as they both stepped out of the room. “It’d be unrealistic for me to walk the whole way, wouldn’t it?”

“Yep,” Mark smiled sympathetically. He, too, absolutely abhorred riding in the bulky, smelly, inefficient vehicles constructed from tons of metal. For that matter, he despised being trapped in any sort of enclosed, man-made space for any stretch of time. But Youngjae couldn’t move very fast in the city given all the concrete, and it’d be pointless if Mark just travelled there on his own.

“At least we’ll be there sooner,” Youngjae smiled, his usual optimism surfacing. “And maybe the train will pass by that new arboretum the city is building!”

~~

Jaebum’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, attention focused carefully on the figure situated in his periphery while easily maintaining the impression that he was entirely focused on the task at hand.

But even from only observing out of the corner of his eye, it was still very clear that something was bothering Yugyeom. From the way he was biting his lip guiltily, to the way he almost mistook werewolf hairs for werecat whiskers, it was quite obvious the golem had something pressing on his mind.

Whatever it was, Jaebum was certain it had something to do with himself as well. Yugyeom had returned home extremely early in the morning, and the slight ripple in the wards was enough to wake Jaebum from his dreams. Irritated by the disruption, he’d asked Yugyeom to rearrange his shelf of ingredients, which the golem had agreed to surprisingly willingly. But in the hour that had lapsed so far he’d barely made any progress, often sneaking glances at Jaebum instead when he thought the mage wouldn’t notice.

But of course Jaebum had noticed. He just didn’t particularly care at the moment, too busy giving his full attention to Nora, his little princess. She was currently sprawled across his lap, purring contentedly as he meticulously brushed her down with her favorite bristled brush.

Nora was his siamese cat, one of fifteen cats total he kept in his impressively luxurious loft. It was a prime piece of real estate, and even to this day he still received offers from magicfolk and humans alike who wished to buy it off his hands. They were all given the same rejection, though; Jaebum had originally moved in right after building had been constructed, proceeding to carefully plan and furnish every room personally. Everything was already laid out to fit his tastes and suit his comforts, so there was absolutely no way he’d be moving elsewhere.

Though frankly, it was the comfort of his feline companions that had been held precedent above all else in the decorating of his home. Coarse beige carpet covered all the walls, serving as a giant scratching post for the many sharp claws. Ledges, boxes, and other toys littered every corner of the 2,000 square foot home, providing the cats with more than enough space and entertainment when Jaebum himself was too busy to give them attention.

Everything had also been carefully cat-proofed, but not in the traditional manner. Wards had been set on all potentially dangerous areas and substances to keep the cats away, so Jaebum always felt at ease letting his “children” roam free.

The rest of the decor was quite simple, in comparison. Everything was either black, white, or gray, and besides all the cat toys not a single thing was ever out of place. Jaebum had always been a stickler for organization and tidiness, which could also be seen by his frequent impulses to rearrange everything.

Exhibit A, Yugyeom relabeling all of his exotic ingredients, for really no reason at all.

Nora, finally having had enough of the special spa treatment, meowed once as she wriggled away from Jaebum’s lap. She landed nimbly on the floor, not sparing a single glance backwards as she darted off to a different room.

Jaebum only smiled, stretching lazily in the gray armchair he was currently situated in. His eyes swept the room carelessly, before finally coming to a rest on Yugyeom.

“Hyung?” Yugyeom questioned tentatively, setting a glass vial carefully back in its place on the shelf.

“Don’t ask me, you’re the one who keeps peeking at me,” Jaebum raised an eyebrow, gaze piercing. “What trouble did you get into this time? What do you need from me?”

“I, nothing!” Yugyeom jumped to deny it instinctively, but the way he ducked his head and avoided eye contact was all too telling of the truth.

“Right, nothing,” Jaebum drawled, stretching his neck so that it cracked twice in succession,”That’s definitely why you went from calling me an idiot just yesterday to suddenly using honorifics again.”

“Jaebum-hyung…” Yugyeom couldn’t stop his face from flaming up with any embarrassment, and for one crazy moment he thought about transforming to hide it. Except he’d probably destroy half of Jaebum’s exotic ingredients in the process, and then he’d really be in trouble.

But it was true; while Yugyeom revered Jaebum above everyone and everything, he’d long since stopped seeing him as just his master and creator. The two of them now bickered almost constantly and teased each other even more relentlessly, though Jaebum did usually put a stop to things once they started getting too out of hand.

“Just say it.” A hint of impatience had finally crept into Jaebum’s voice and Yugyeom swallowed, brushing his hands off on his pants nervously before pushing himself to his feet.

“Um, I might’ve...made Bambam really upset with you? Like, he’s never liked you but I kinda went along with a misunderstanding he already had and purposefully didn’t clarify it…” Yugyeom spoke slowly, eyes flitting around nervously but always landed back on Jaebum.

“What did you say to him? Or rather, what didn’t you say?” Jaebum asked casually, finger tapping lightly against the armrest of the chair. Yugyeom swallowed again.

“He... thinks you forced me to do something I didn’t want to, or at least didn’t have to do. Relating to Jinyoung.” Yugyeom chose his words carefully, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt again. “I didn’t correct his thinking.”

“Ahh.” Jaebum stopped his tapping, and a small smile quirked his lips instead. He reached out a hand, a small glass vial flying straight into his grasp. Jaebum caught it deftly, his tight fist slowly uncurling to reveal the object. “You mean, relating to this?”

Yugyeom sucked in a breath, focusing on the vial that lay in Jaebum’s palm. Even though Yugyeom was across the room, he had no problem identifying exactly what it was. It was even his own writing on the sticky label that declared its contents.

_Park Jinyoung - Incubus - 3ml Blood Sample_

Yugyeom stayed silent, shoulders sagging as his eyes found the floor.

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” Jaebum said lightly, fist closing again while Yugyeom’s head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Wait why?” Yugyeom pressed, uncomprehending.

“Because it’s not my problem,” Jaebum shrugged. “Bambam can hate me or think whatever he wants of me, I don’t mind. It’s not like he can hurt me, and his opinions are based on preconceived notions anyways. On the contrary, I think you’re the one who minds the most. Am I not right?”

Jaebum looked at Yugyeom knowingly, eyes softening just a fraction when Yugyeom’s expression fell.

“Why don’t you just tell him? About how you feel and what you really think about everything. Not for my sake, but for your own sake,” Jaebum advised gently. “Let him know you feel the same way he does.”

“But I can’t!” Yugyeom blurted out, looking torn. “He defended me against Jinyoung-hyung last night, but I know if I told him everything he’d definitely side against me. I know you’d never, ever use that blood against Jinyoung-hyung, but they won’t believe that! I know it, but that doesn’t mean they know!”

Yugyeom’s eyes were shining with conviction but a flash of desperation couldn’t quite be hidden. Jaebum was taken slightly aback by Yugyeom’s sudden outburst, a slightly conflicted look appearing on his face as he glanced down at the vial in his hand.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jaebum said softly, eyes unreadable. He didn’t elaborate on what exactly he was referring to, though, and Yugyeom suddenly didn’t look so certain. The two of them lapsed into a temporary silence, each caught up in his own thoughts.

“Either way,” Jaebum suddenly straightened, snapping both of them out of it, “Just do what you want to do. And don’t regret it. That’s all you can do, you don’t need to consider anything on my end.”

Jaebum’s words were brisk, businesslike, setting Yugyeom’s heart slightly more at ease but he couldn’t help but ask one last question.

“Hyung, do you regret anything?”

Jaebum appraised Yugyeom for a moment, gauging the weight of the question to see how seriously he should respond. Unfortunately for him, Yugyeom appeared completely solemn, causing Jaebum to finally release a resigned sigh. He opened his mouth, about to reply, when their landline suddenly started to ring.

Jaebum immediately picked up the phone, shooting Yugyeom an apologetic look that was not at all sincere. And Yugyeom knew it, sticking his tongue out at Jaebum in response, secretly lamenting the broken moment and lost opportunity to gain more insight into the mage’s thoughts.

“Hello, Im Jaebum speaking.” Jaebum leaned back in his armchair again, a pen and notepad materializing in his free hand. This landline was used exclusively for business, meaning it was a potential new client on the phone. “How may I help you today?”

“Im Jaebum? This is Officer Park Sungjin, with the police department. Er, the human police department. I’m calling to ask for your help.” The officer’s voice was serious, almost grave in tone.

“The human police department is asking for my help?” Jaebum looked surprised, but didn’t let it reflect in his voice. Upon hearing Jaebum’s words Yugyeom perked up as well, interest immediately piqued. “And what help would you be needing?”

There was a slight pause on the other line.

“What have you heard about the recent human killings?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave me a comment if you've enjoyed this thus far~ Getting feedback is incredibly motivating <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I suck at proofreading, so please bear with me - despite taking so long, most of this was written in two sittings OTL

~~

When the train pulled into the station, Mark exhaled quietly in relief, shifting in his seat to nudge the head currently resting on his shoulder. A few indiscernible mumbles were all he received in response, however, prompting him to reach his other arm around to give the sleeping dryad a good shake.

“Youngjae, we’re here,” Mark squeezed Youngjae arm, voice low but insistent. And finally, Youngjae began to stir, eyes scrunching up first before slowly prying themselves open.

“Huh?” Youngjae blinked a few times, head finally leaving Mark’s shoulder as he squinted around at his surroundings, clearly disoriented.

“We’ve arrived at the Northern Forest. Or, just outside of it,” Mark amended, pushing himself to his feet. All around them, passengers were already gathering their things in preparation to disembark, and it was now that Youngjae finally regained his bearings.

“Oh!” Youngjae immediately jerked up in seat, muscles tensing and lip curling in distaste as his eyes darted around the interior of the train. Mark had to suppress a laugh - while Youngjae had worn a similar expression from when they first stepped into the vehicle, it hadn’t taken him long at all to forget his disgust and fall asleep.

“It’s okay, we’re getting off now,” Mark managed to hold himself back from teasing the tree nymph, pulling him to his feet instead. “We made it just fine.”

~~

Once the train station was out of sight, Youngjae visibly relaxed, a smile making its way back onto his face as he inhaled deeply, relishing in the smell and taste of the familiar air. Mark had the slightest urge to tease him again, but held back again as he, too, was enjoying the untainted atmosphere much more.

The Northern Woods spanned a good hundred miles upwards, and even further running east and west. And given its fiercely protective population of dryads, it flourished like no other. It was one of the most biodiverse ecosystems to exist so closely to civilization, a true miracle given the destruction that usually came with urbanization.

“Is there anyone in particular you wanted to visit this time?” Mark asked, step quickening to keep up with Youngjae, who’d assumed his true form. One would never expect a tree to move fast, and Youngjae’s figure was essentially a human representation of one, but back on soft soil and surrounded by the lush landscape, Youngjae all but glided along. Vine and branch-like appendages extended outwards from his body to skim across the earth, easily navigating their pathless route.

“We're going to see Sandeul! There was a forest fire a couple weeks ago, right on the edge of his territory, so he’s been working on clearing out the debris to help jump start the regrowth.”

Youngjae craned his neck to look back at Mark, eyes twinkling, “I was thinking you could help us make short work of the cleanup portion.”

“Ahh, so that’s why you were adamant about me coming with you this time, huh?” Mark arched an eyebrow, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Youngjae’s good moods were always infectious, he wouldn’t be able to sulk in his presence even if he tried.

“Come on!”

Bright, musical laughter surrounded them as Youngjae picked up his pace, practically flying through the foliage. Mark was flying too now, quite literally, finally taking on his original form as a sudden rush of wind, making Youngjae giggle as his leaves rustled from the movement.

It was freedom, in the purest sense. Even as the last echoes of Youngjae’s laugh escaped from the edges of Mark’s reach, the potent energy of life and unbidden joy continued to course through him, pulling him along gleefully.

Many immortals, as ironic as it was, simply forgot how to live after a while, boredom hollowing them out as the absence of death slowly stripped them of their sense of purpose.

Mark had felt that way, too, not all that long ago.

But not anymore, not now.

~~

Jinyoung disliked many things. He disliked unnecessary small talk, he disliked uncultured pricks, and he disliked all things unhygienic.

But by god were human teenagers in a class of their own. At this moment, Jinyoung wasn’t sure he could abhor anything more.

“Have a nice day…” Jinyoung’s voice was completely monotone, expression blank as he finished bagging up the purchase, not even bothering to hand the bag over to the rambunctious teens that stood in front of the checkout. He slid it forwards instead, fighting back a grimace as they finally turned to walk out of the bookstore, one of the boys nearly knocking over a temporary display with his excessive gesturing, his friends guffawing at the _hilarious_ story he was telling.

“...and don’t ever come back again,” Jinyoung muttered under his breath, stepping away from the register to clean up the mess they’d left behind. Granted, everything still _looked_ nice and tidy, but Jinyoung knew there were at least a dozen books now out of place. He had watched, in fact, his irritation mounting with each passing second, as the careless brats had slowly wrought their destruction on his impeccably organized system with their aimless trek through the shelves.

Jinyoung was a very particular person. His few friends often called him high maintenance, and even if Jinyoung scoffed outwardly in response, he knew it to be true. He remained unbothered by this, however - he could afford to do things his way.

Still, Jinyoung hadn't survived this long by being wholly lacking in tact. His reputation of being a hard to please, sensitive stickler was only preceded by his record of being a charming gentleman that could sweep anyone off their feet.

Humans were easily enamored of him, naturally, but he also had more than a few magicfolk admirers.

The current success of this little bookshop was a prime illustration of his capabilities. Located in a narrow alley just on the edge of the busiest part of town, the creaky, dusty establishment had been on the verge of bankruptcy when Jinyoung first happened upon it. At the time, it more resembled an abandoned warehouse than a sustainable source of income.

While Jinyoung himself appreciated the antiquity of the volumes held within, the unappealing setup of it all was enough to turn him away, not to mention casual customers who were simply looking for a bedtime read while being significantly less well versed in high literature.

The only reason Jinyoung originally set foot in the place was due to a very specific work he’d been searching for, which he indeed found within. That text no longer held any significance, however, not since he’d presented it as an anniversary gift to a particular mage.

He knew now it had been an utter waste of effort and money.

At least he did get something else worthwhile out of the experience. Expecting to simply pick up his purchase and depart, he’d been surprised to run into an old friend at the cash register. Hyunwoo, a werewolf who used to be a part of the friend group Jinyoung liked to go clubbing with, and who just so happened to be the son-in-law of the owner of the bookstore.

They’d fallen out of touch a few years back, neither expecting to reconnect in this dingy old store of all places. As it turned out, Hyunwoo had gotten _married_ during that time, and to a human, of all people.

Unions between magicfolk and humans weren’t necessarily rare, but were still exceedingly uncommon. Such relationships always came with a whole host of challenges, and Jinyoung hadn’t ever pegged Hyunwoo as the type to take on such hassles.

Polite small talk to catch up quickly turned to deeper reminiscing, and upon hearing that the bookstore would be forced to shut down rather soon, Jinyoung’s first reaction was of excitement - he was an avid book collector, after all, and with closures always came the inevitable sweeping discounts. The possibility of buying out the store’s entire collection at a fraction of the original cost was incredibly tantalizing.

But on second thought, coupled with a surge of guilt that his first instinct was to take advantage of the situation while Hyunwoo was speaking with such a forlorn look on his face, Jinyoung came to a different decision, one that resulted in him becoming one of the new co-owners of the establishment.

“You look like you just tasted some of your own cooking,” Hyunwoo joked as he sidled up to Jinyoung in front of the bookshelf, eyes scanning the spines of the books critically.

“Oh shut up, that was one time. My cooking is fantastic, thank you very much,” Jinyoung growled, plucking two books off shelf a bit more aggressively than necessary.

“Sure,” Hyunwoo laughed, watching on in amusement as Jinyoung stalked towards the other end of the store, undoubtedly to put the two books back where they belonged. “You know, you really don’t have to work, we have enough people on shift. You’ve done more than enough remodeling this whole place from ground up, not to mention all our new customers are thanks to your advertising. You’re a co-owner, Jinyoung, not a sales associate.”

“It’s not like I have much else to do anyways, it’s fine,” Jinyoung waved off the comments dismissively. “Besides, what advertising? I just told a couple of my friends about it, they’re the ones who helped spread the word.”

“Jinyoung, your _friends_ just so happen to be some of the most connected and influential people in this entire city,” Hyunwoo shook his head, almost exasperated, but his eyes were fond. “Honestly, you’ve done so much for us already. We’ve had more sales in the past couple of months than probably the last three years combined.”

At this, Jinyoung softened, a small smile lighting his lips as he slid one of the books back into place.

“It’s really nothing. I’ve enjoyed this, mostly, and you know how hard it can be for us magicfolk to find new and interesting things to stave off boredom. This has been fun.”

Hyunwoo was silent for a few seconds as he watched Jinyoung proceed down the aisle, thumb trailing along the book spines. His silence was normal; the man had never been one for many words to begin with, and Jinyoung had simply thought the conversation to be over, when a light touch landed on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re not…” Hyunwoo paused, squeezing Jinyoung’s shoulder gently, “...just trying to make yourself unnecessarily busy? I know you love books, but I also know how much you hate dealing with most customers.”

Jinyoung tensed, turning a sharp eye on Hyunwoo at the implication.

“What are you trying to say?”

Hyunwoo sighed, letting his hand slip from Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“I’m not trying to make any judgments, it’s just… the time you started hanging out here much more was right after you broke up with Jaebum.”

Now it was Jinyoung’s turn to be silent. He knew what Hyunwoo was implying, and he felt a surge of irritation. Partially at Hyunwoo, for bringing it up so bluntly, but moreso at himself. To say the timing was mere coincidence would be laughable, but to admit he was so affected by the event would be equally mortifying. Jinyoung didn’t need the concern of his friends, and he was supposed to care about his current relationship status even less.

But his recent bouts of irrationality, be it how he reacted to Yugyeom, or how he had to stoop to looking for distractions, was telling of his true state of mind. He _was_ hurt, he _was_ affected, which was all embarrassing enough, since Jaebum, by contrast, was probably unconcernedly sipping wine in his penthouse at the moment, glad he no longer had to put an act now that he had what he wanted.

No, Jaebum probably had no need to even be glad; Jinyoung had most likely slipped his mind as soon as he slammed the door shut on his way out that night. Which made it downright humiliating if he needed any additional consolation.

Jinyoung struggled for a few seconds to come up with the right words to say, to defend his tattered pride, but in the end, gave up with a sigh. Hyunwoo wouldn’t buy it, not at this point, he knew him better than that. His only hope was for Hyunwoo to drop the matter.

“I’m fine. It’s in the past now, anyways. You know I can take care of myself.”

“Of course I know that. I’m not worried about your health. Well, as a friend I’ll always be concerned about your well-being, but I know you’ve been handling it fine so that’s not what I’m worried about.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving, which Hyunwoo took as his cue to continue.

“Ending a relationship is almost never smooth sailing, that’s normal. I know you can take care of yourself, Jinyoung, and nothing’s ever indicated to me otherwise. It’s just… how do I say this.”

Hyunwoo now bore a rare expression of frustration, running a hand through his hair agitatedly as he chose his next words carefully.

“Both you and Jaebum are so prideful. And I can’t help but wonder, are things the way they should be right now? I know you were genuinely in love with him, and Jaebum… I would’ve bet everything that he was just as deeply in love with you. You two were incredible together. I don’t know what happened that night, neither you nor Jaebum will speak of it, but was it really that earth shattering? I can’t make judgements, because I don’t know, but it all feels so wrong to me. Are you sure it wasn’t some sort of misunderstanding?”

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding,” Jinyoung said flatly, hurt flashing across his eyes for the briefest of moments. “I appreciate the concern, I really do. But I’m really over it.”

“I just really think you two should try talking again. Not to get back together, but just to have a conversation.” Hyunwoo was being uncharacteristically persistent, and Jinyoung could feel his own frustration beginning to rise. “You two haven’t conversed at all since then, right? It’s hard to communicate rationally in the heat of the moment, I really think there’s a chance that-”

“It’s not going to happen, alright?” Jinyoung finally snapped, voice raised. Hyunwoo flinched but remained unangered by his harsh tone, appearing only disappointed and uncertain.

Jinyoung forced himself to take a deep breath, attempting to steady his rattled composure. A few customers were glancing their way curiously, and more attention was the last thing he needed.

“Things are fine the way they way they are now,” Jinyoung finally said with a soft exhale, pushing away from the bookshelf. He was resigned, exhausted of this subject, face drawn with a defeat so uncharacteristic it almost made Hyunwoo want to take his words back.

“It’s the way things have always been. That’s all.”

~~

“First off, no combination of anything here is poisonous, I run a very safe establishment, thank you very much. Second, the only thing that’s remotely close to poison is probably the bleach used for cleaning the bathrooms, and I guarantee Jaebum is more likely to put all his cats up for adoption than accidently drink something you’ve spiked with bleach.”

Jackson slapped his dishrag down on the countertop slightly harder than necessary, just for emphasis, before turning to look at the pixie sulking on the barstool in front of him.

Despite having left in such a sour mood, Bambam couldn’t help but wander back to Moonshine as soon as he knew Jackson would be up - the bar cum coffee shop was still technically closed, and wouldn’t be open yet for a while, but this wouldn’t the first time he was let in (albeit reluctantly) by the owner for an off-menu drink and some sound, yet arguably unsolicited advice.

“So how about you think about _actual_ solutions that don’t involve murdering an unmurderable mage?” Jackson didn’t completely understand why Bambam was so intent on pinning all the blame on Jaebum (okay, so maybe he understood _a little_ ), but all in all this was getting rather ridiculous.

“He's not invincible,” Bambam mumbled, running a finger along the rim of his wineglass. “Definitely not unmurderable.”

Jackson rolled his eyes.

“He’s about as close to unmurdable as any of us can be. He didn’t survive several millennia while living such a high profile life only to be offed so easily by some pixie.”

“I’m not just some pixie!” Bambam protested indignantly, but deflated as Jackson sent him a withering stare. “Okay, so maybe murder isn’t exactly a viable option, but you can let me dream about it, alright?”

Jackson just shook his head, exasperated as he leaned forwards with his elbows placed on the countertop.

“Look, Bam, I’m being serious here. I think you’re being pretty unfair to Yugyeom about Jaebum. Everyone knows, except you apparently, that their relationship is more like family than master and servant.”

“Then why is Jinyoung-hyung so pissed at Yugyeom? He won’t even talk to him anymore!” Bambam leapt up from his seat, slamming a palm of the counter, features twisted in anger. “Sure, they argue all the time and like to push each other’s buttons, but you know how close they used to be! Even before Jinyoung-hyung started dating that manipulative mage!”

Jackson gave Bambam a warning look, but the pixie plowed on regardless.

“Jinyoung-hyung likes to hold grudges, you know that. But he never takes thing this far. Yugyeom would never do anything deserving of that of his own free will!”

“Are you so sure about that?”

A third voice swept into the room, along with a breezy gust that tousled Bambam’s perfectly placed hair. A figure materialized out of thin air, landing lightly as he strode forward, garments billowing.

“Mark!” Jackson looked relieved to see the sylph, breaking out into a grin at the arrival of an additional voice of reason. Bambam didn’t quite share his sentiments, however, growling lowly in his throat as he attempted to smooth his hair.

“What do you mean by that?” Bambam demanded, but less forcefully than before. It was harder to argue against Mark, with how composed he always was, not to mention the calming presence he managed to bring wherever he went.

“I don’t mean anything in particular,” Mark plucked up Bambam’s wine glass, handing it to Jackson to wash and put away. Jackson immediately complied, happily relieving his position to the air spirit. “Just the meaning of the question at face value. Can you really be sure? Whether it’s something Yugyeom did, or if Jinyoung has another reason for acting this way. Do you know anything specific about what happened?”

And to that, Bambam had nothing to say, stilling as he dropped his gaze.

He didn’t know. He had no idea what happened that night, and that was what made everything so much worse. Yugyeom wouldn’t say a single thing, and it wasn’t like he was about to ask Jaebum. The fact of the matter was no one knew what transpired, besides those who were directly involved - not Mark, not Jackson, and clearly not Bambam, so everything was at most pure speculation.

Mark’s reminder of this seemed to drain all the animosity from Bambam, his eyes clouding over with doubt.

“Bam, you should really just talk to Yugyeom. Ask him what happened, and have an open, honest conversation.” Jackson advised from his place at the sink, and Mark nodded in agreement. “I know you’ve tried already, multiple times, but you’ve always run away first too, haven’t you? You need to give him a fair chance.”

“I...I know,” Bambam slumped back onto the stool, restless fingers now coming up to dance on the edges of the counter. “I know, I do, but I guess I’m just…” he trailed off into silence.

“You’re scared, in case you’re wrong and Yugyeom did do something unforgivable, right?” Jackson walked back over while drying the glass, sighing when Bambam gave an almost imperceptible nod. “But you don’t know for sure. It could be something else entirely. If this is torturing you that much, you should find out the truth, and go from there, don’t you think? It’d be unfair to Yugyeom otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Bambam finally agreed, but it was half-hearted, and there was no saying whether he’d change his mind later. Jackson looked like he wanted to say more, but the pixie had already pushed himself to his feet, sighing deeply. “I’ll try. Thanks, Jackson-hyung, for listening.”

His gaze flickered up to Mark, and he gave him a small smile as well.

“You too, Mark-hyung. I appreciate it, really. I… I guess I’ll be heading out now.”

With that, Bambam slowly shuffled out of the bar, hands stuffed in his pockets, head lowered.

“Fae. They never really grow up, do they?” Jackson commented as the front door closed with a clink and a click, and Mark nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” Mark walked around the bar to join Jackson behind the counter, leaning against the table as he watched Jackson busy himself in readying the daytime menu. The pastries were already ready to go - Jackson had a baker that stopped in early morning since he couldn’t bake to save his life - so all that remained was restocking ingredients for the beverages.

“I sure hope so. It’s weird, not having everyone getting along. I don’t like it.” Jackson’s lip curled, as if it physically made him sick, and Mark had to hold back a laugh.

“It’ll work out, eventually,” Mark reiterated, stating it firmly as if it was an indisputable fact, managing to pull a genuine smile from Jackson as well.

“I'll hold you to that then, so you can be responsible if things go wrong,” Jackson wiggled his eyebrows playfully, and Mark couldn’t help but laugh aloud at his ridiculous expression.

“Okay, enough about that. We need to finish setting up, half an hour left before open.”Jackson wiped his hands on his pants as he stepped away from espresso machine, gesturing towards the stacked tables lined along the walls.

While Moonshine was closed for an absurdly short amount of time between night and day hours, stacking the tables and chairs remained a necessity to clean the floors properly on a daily basis. The brownies Jackson hired to scrub the place down always took care of the stacking bit, but putting everything back into place was all on him.

Mark didn’t need the prompting, however, already moving towards the first pair of tables to firmly grasp the edge of the one on top. Jackson was on the other side in an instant, the table lifting easily between the two of them and flipping upright in one smooth motion.

They made quick work of the rest, Jackson beginning to hum cheerily about halfway through. Frankly, they were both strong enough to handle single tables on their own, but these were familiar actions, and efficiency didn’t suffer nearly enough to consider discarding this habitual teamwork.

“Ah!” Jackson suddenly broke tune just as they reached the last set of tables, though the rest of his body gave no pause as they finished the job. “There was something I actually wanted to ask you about.”

“Yeah?” Mark rolled his shoulders as he stepped away from the table they just set down, striding to the stacked chairs in the corner as Jackson hip-checked the table into its place.

“You didn’t have any plans this upcoming weekend, right? I was thinking about taking a day off on Sunday - we’re closed Sunday night anyways, and taking just the day off once wouldn’t really hurt business. I was thinking we could go catch a movie or something? It’s been awhile since I saw anything in theaters.”

Mark paused in his step. He couldn’t see Jackson’s expression, not with his back towards him, but could tell even at this distance that the shapeshifter was holding his breath.

“Just the two of us?” Mark’s inquiry was soft, light, and by all interpretations casual. But there was still a weight to his words, one that only emphasized the sudden standstill.

A sharp exhale, sending the smallest of ripples through the air, then -

“Yeah.”

Mark smiled, walking forwards once again.

“Sure. It’s a date, then.”

~~

Jaebum felt a chill creep up his spine, an inexplicable knot of unease settle in his stomach.

His eyes fluttered shut as his fingers skimmed further down the stiff, cold corpse. They pressed gently, probingly, but gave him frustratingly little. Every so often, heatless sparks would fly from his fingertips, but they fizzled out as abruptly as they came.

He could feel the humans’ eyes on him, their hopes adding to the tense energy in the air. Sungjin’s nerves were particularly palpable - as police chief, he held more responsibility, after all.

He could feel Yugyeom behind him as the warm, solid presence he always was. Earthy, grounded, attentive - and just the slightest bit anxious.

He could feel the drained, burnt out cores of the corpses that lined the walls of the morgue, ashy and faint, but still telling of the life that used to inhabit them.

But from this body, he felt nothing.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. A year later, I post the second chapter. OTL  
> I promise, promise yearly updates were not and are not my intention.  
> I... think??? I have the plot semi-figured out now, at least more so than when I word vomited the first chapter. I can't promise quick updates, but I can promise I will try my best to keep the momentum going??  
> Please do leave me a comment if you enjoyed, frankly the comments are the only reason why I finally managed to finish this second chapter, so thank you <3  
> (PS JJP finally interact next chapter)


	3. Chapter 3

~~

“I’ve got nothing for you right now.”

Jaebum made to stand, but Sungjin grabbed his wrist, eyes pleading as he held Jaebum in place. Yugyeom tensed - the human police officers were of no threat to a mage and a golem, but they _were_ in a police station, and to cause a ruckus here would certainly be a headache to handle later.

They hadn’t lingered long in the morgue. The humans had been anxious to depart the cold, death-heavy building, and despite Sungjin’s adamance that they take their time to examine the evidence carefully, it hadn’t taken much time for Jaebum to reach his current conclusion.

“People are _dying_ Jaebum, we need your help!”

Jaebum sighed, firmly extricating his hand from Sungjin’s grasp, but remained seated. Yugyeom breathed out quietly in relief but didn’t fully relax, eyes trained carefully on the imploring police chief sitting across from them.

“My findings are no different than the autopsy results you previously received - there’s no traceable signature I can identify, I have no idea who or what killed these people. Not only that, those two corpses have no traces of any residual life energy at all. This is far from a simple murder, even I have absolutely no idea what could’ve caused this.”

“What do you mean there aren’t any traces of residual life energy?” Another officer spoke up from the side, brow furrowed. The words rolled off his tongue awkwardly, making it clear he was unfamiliar with the terminology.

“Anything living has life energy.” There was a hint of impatience to Jaebum’s voice as he began to explain, leaning back in his chair. “Plants have it, humans have it, I have it. What you humans call magic, whether it’s a shapeshifter’s power to transform or my ability to weave spells, it’s all just variations of this life energy. You humans have… let’s just say, a less potent version of it. And I,” Jaebum snapped his fingers, bright purple sparks flying, “have a bit more of it, in a more powerful strain.”

“But the thing is, once something dies, this energy doesn’t just disappear. Sure, when someone dies from old age or a terminal illness, their core will be drained and empty, but residual traces always remain. When someone is killed, or taken before their time, the remaining energy may still be fairly active until it gradually disperses.”

“Frankly, even this desk,” Jaebum rapped his knuckles on the wooden face of the surface in front of him, “has very, very faint energy traces, since it was once part of a living thing. There is magic that allows one to drain the energy of another, but like I said before, even in that case it’s essentially impossible to erase all traces.”

Glancing around the debrief room, it was apparent that Jaebum’s explanation was still insufficient, with many officers only looking increasingly bewildered. Exhaling loudly, Jaebum shook his head, searching for a simpler metaphor.

“It’s like… filling a bowl full of red dye. You let it sit, and over time, the dye will slowly evaporate. Maybe the bowl gets cracked, and it begins to drain away at a faster rate, or someone else comes to forcibly remove the dye from the bowl. But no matter what happens, no matter how the dye is removed, in the end the bowl will be permanently stained red.”

Fortunately, this comparison seemed to resonate as expressions of comprehension finally dawned on the faces around him, so Jaebum pressed on.

“In our case, life energy is like the red dye, these corpses are like the bowl. You can remove the energy, drain it away, but it always leaves very distinct evidence of its past presence. Life energy traces can also be used as a sort of identifying signature for different species, creatures, or even individuals, since the nature of the energy can vary quite widely.”

“But in this case, there is none,” Sungjin concluded, a hand coming up to rub at his eyes tiredly. “Which is supposed to be impossible?”

“Nothing is impossible,” Jaebum correctly promptly, earning an exhausted glare from Sungjin in response. “But yes, it shouldn’t be happening, I’ve never heard of something similar, much less encountered it. Which indicates something much bigger, and most likely sinister, is at work here.”

“Which is exactly why we need your help, Jaebum!” It was clear that Sungjin was overwhelmed and feeling incredibly out of his depth. “We can’t allow more people to die!”

Jaebum raised an eyebrow, and this time no one stopped him when he stood.

“When did I say I was just going to stand by and do nothing? I said I had nothing for you _now_ , that doesn’t mean I won’t have anything for you later.”

With a grim smile, Jaebum threw his last words over his shoulder as he swiftly exited the station.

“I’ll let you know when I find something.”

Sungjin could only gape at the door, shellshocked. Yugyeom wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh at the poor officer or feel sorry for him, but settled for a comforting pat on the police chief’s shoulders, graciously dropping a last tidbit of advice before following Jaebum’s example.

“You better ask your superiors to start collecting funds - Jaebum-hyung doesn’t charge cheaply for jobs that require actual research.”

~~

The warm beige walls of his flat were comforting, and Jinyoung felt his body finally begin to relax as he sank onto his couch, eyes slipping shut as he attempted to regulate his breathing, which was coming in short pants much too quick for the single flight of stairs he’d taken.

He had just finished feeding (his victim a tall, handsome man with bold brows and so willing Jinyoung had forsaken his glamour entirely), meaning he should’ve been feeling sated and content. And yet, here he was, taut as a bowstring, shaking from his inability to absorb the rush of new life energy running through him.

Incubi were at their most vulnerable immediately post-feeding, and thanks to his terse conversation with Hyunwoo earlier in the day, now just so happened to be a terrible time to let the emotional floodgates down. His body had been thrown into a hyperactive frenzy after plunging back into reality; the same post-feeding haze was there, but rather than buoying him, it clouded his vision, making each step forward an uncertain leap.

Jinyoung found himself stumbling home rather pathetically, shaking involuntarily the entire time. Fortunately, he managed to avoid running into any familiar faces, which would’ve been utterly embarrassing. The tremors didn’t cease until he grasped onto the doorknob of his apartment, managing to throw it open with a weak twist and a shove.

_Inhale, exhale._

_Just breathe._

Slowly, his heartbeat began to calm, his breaths evening out. Still, the whole process took a few minutes, a mortifyingly long time.

It was also a bit ironic, considering demons were so often accused of being heartless.

Letting his head release backwards to rest on the back of the couch, Jinyoung sighed, eyes slowly opening to stare listlessly up at the dark ceiling. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights - he really didn’t need them, anyways. He had always found darkness to be calming.

Thinking back to earlier in the day, and when forcing himself to be rational, Jinyoung couldn’t deny that Hyunwoo had meant well with his advice, and there was truth to his words. The fact that he was so affected now, so many hours later, proved the exact point the werewolf had been trying to make.

But where did that leave him, then? It was much easier to convince himself that everything with Jaebum had been fake, that the mage was indeed just a scheming snake who had put on an act to get what he wanted. If Jinyoung admitted now that the facts didn’t quite add up, that even if Jaebum hadn’t been upfront with him, he also hadn’t given him a chance to explain, then that meant acknowledging his own faults.

_But why hasn’t Jaebum attempted to explain since then?_

This was the burning question that allowed a flicker of anger to spark in Jinyoung’s core. Alright, fine. That night, they were both slightly out of their minds, screaming words back and forth at each other that were aimed to hurt. But if Jaebum truly had a legitimate reason for taking his blood, why hadn’t he contacted him at all afterwards? Why hadn’t he attempted to explain?

But then, the flame in him sputtered out, because Jinyoung knew why. It was the same reason why he hadn’t sought Jaebum out either.

They were both much too prideful.

_“I would’ve bet everything that he was just as deeply in love with you.”_

Hyunwoo’s words floated back to Jinyoung, who shut his eyes again wearily. Was it worth it? Was that really true? And even if it was, did it matter if they both valued their pride more?

Jinyoung jolted when a sudden vibration startled him out of his thoughts. Picking up his phone from the cushion on his left, Jinyoung had to squint to discern who was calling, his eyes unadjusted to the brightness of the screen.

“Bambam?” Jinyoung couldn’t help his surprise when he picked up the call. He wouldn’t have expected the pixie to contact him anytime soon, given how they’d parted on less than friendly terms not so long ago.

“Hey Jinyoung-hyung,” Bambam sounded uncharacteristically forlorn, though that was becoming increasingly common as of late. At this, Jinyoung felt a pang of guilt - he knew how important Yugyeom was to him, and even if he had a grudge against the golem, Bambam was innocent. He didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire. “I was wondering...if you could tell me what happened? With you and Jaebum-hyung, and Yugyeom too?”

“I…”

This was perhaps the worst timing, to be asked such a question when his emotions were already so volatile. Usually, he would have no reservations doling out a prompt rejection. Coupled with his surging guilt, however, Jinyoung was torn.

On one hand, he did trust Bambam. They’d known each other for good number of decades now, and the pixie was notably more kind-hearted than most fae.

That being said, Jinyoung wasn’t quite sure he trusted Bambam with his life.

Magicfolk blood was much more than just liquid that transported oxygen to muscles and organs. It was a source of power, fundamentally tied to an individual’s existence and well being.

Jinyoung didn’t have many enemies, per say, but it would still be prudent to hide such a vulnerability from everyone, including Bambam.

“Can you at least tell me what Yugyeom did that was so unforgivable?” Jinyoung must’ve taken too long in his pause, causing Bambam to interrupt impatiently. “I’ve been trying to contact him all day, but I think he’s avoiding me. I just want to know what happened!”

“Bambam, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into my mess,” Jinyoung finally forced out an apology, gritting his teeth as he came to a decision. “Can I call you back later? I can’t tell you what happened right now, but I’m going to try to...to fix things for you and Yugyeom, okay?”

“What do you mean, try to fix things for us? Does that mean Yugyeom didn’t do anything wrong? It _was_ all Jaebum’s fault, wasn’t it?” Bambam was immediately incensed, and while Jinyoung really appreciated the shared hatred for the mage, he wasn’t forgiving enough to so simply absolve Yugyeom of his participation.

“No, that is not what I’m saying,” Jinyoung said sharply, and he could practically see the crestfallen expression on the pixie’s face. “But I’ll get back to you, okay? So don’t do anything rash.”

“How soon?” Bambam pressed.

“As soon as I can.” Jinyoung’s fingers came up to massage at his temples, already regretting his promise but continuing with it anyways. “I’ll explain once I have everything sorted out.”

“...Okay.”

~~

Youngjae frowned, fingers curling in the dirt as he once again tried to coax the seedling into sprouting.

But there was nothing.

“See? I told you,” Sandeul was visibly agitated as he crouched down next to Youngjae, brushing aside the loose soil to reveal the seeds they just buried. He plucked a few of them up, dusting the excess dirt off before displaying his cupped palm.

The seeds appeared completely untouched - whole, smooth, with absolutely no signs of germinating.

“I don’t understand…” Youngjae said worriedly. “With the amount of magic I was pouring in, these should’ve been at least a couple of inches tall by now.”

Sandeul nodded fervently in agreement.

“It’s this whole stretch! A strip right through the middle of where the fire burned, maybe this strip is even where the whole fire started. The earth is scorched here the worst, but we’ve already gone through to clean up the ashes and dead undergrowth. There should be no reason for this!”

Youngjae sat back on his heels, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he surveyed the blackened landscape around him, a sick feeling settling in his stomach.

Mark had left after helping out with the initial cleanup, which involved clearing out all the dead and destroyed plant life to make way for the new. Youngjae had decided to stay a few days longer to help Sandeul stimulate the regrowth, and they’d been making good time by slowly working their way from East to West of the territory.

That is, until they hit this middle patch, where the blackened Earth seemed unable to support any life at all.

“This isn’t natural…” Sandeul shook his head slowly, a tremor audible in his voice. “This can’t be natural, I’ve never seen anything like this. Not to mention, I _know_ for a fact this land is fertile, the soil here is so rich, I’ve made sure of it. And now it’s just…”

Pressing his palms against the ground, Sandeul settled on his knees, eyes fluttering shut as he concentrated. Youngjae watched on apprehensively, lip still caught between his teeth.

“Nothing. Dead. I… I can’t feel anything.” Sandeul exhaled shakily, hands clenching into fists as his eyes reopened. He looked at Youngjae helplessly, who moved forward silently to embrace the trembling dryad, though he wasn’t sure he had any comfort to give.

“What do I _do_?”

Youngjae had no answer.

~~

There wasn’t much that could surprise Jaebum these days. The odd human deaths were an unfortunate exception that he now had to deal with, but he was resigned to his involvement, and had fully committed himself to the task that would undoubtedly become a much bigger hassle than it was worth. He’d been in this business for too long and already risked his life for a questionable greater good a number of times, so it took much more to rattle him these days.

However, suddenly receiving a call from Park Jinyoung, an ex that he hadn’t spoken to in months, almost made him drop Nora.

Which Nora absolutely did not appreciate, thank you very much, letting out a plaintive meow when Jaebum’s grip on her tightened uncomfortably after his fumble, ultimately choosing to squirm out of his grasp. She leapt to the floor on her own terms, tail lashing as she darted him a glare before disappearing down the hall.

Jaebum absently told himself to make it up to her later, as Nora had a tendency to hold grudges. Now, however, his mind was entirely preoccupied with _what the fuck even_ as his finger hovered over the options on his phone.

With a sharp shake of his head, Jaebum firmly swiped to reject the call, tossing the device off to the side. He couldn’t believe he had even hesitated, it wasn’t his principle to ever look back on what was already behind him.

When pushing up and out of his armchair, however, a gleam of reflective glass suddenly caught his eye. His gaze snapped to a glass vial perched on a shelf across the room, labeled with the exact same name he saw light up his phone screen moments ago.

Jaebum froze, then groaned, _loudly_ , as he collapsed back into the armchair, a hand coming up to grip his hair frustratedly.

_Goddammit._

Raising his other hand, his phone returned to his palm with a resounding smack. Jaebum sighed, unlocking it to navigate to his contacts.

There, at the top of his log, was Jinyoung’s name.

_I didn’t even delete his number, huh?_

Jaebum smiled self-mockingly, half in disbelief over what he was about to do. Grudgingly, Jaebum tapped the call button beside Jinyoung’s name, but not before his phone began to ring once more with a new incoming call.

Now Jaebum was in full disbelief, hissing out yet another expletive.

_Jinyoung was just full of surprises today, wasn’t he. He never used to take rejection so well._

This time, Jaebum swiped to answer it.

“Hello?”

There was silence from the end, and after a few seconds of it, Jaebum felt just the tiniest bit of smugness creep over him - this was so clearly a shocked silence, he could already imagine the stunned expression on Jinyoung’s face.

 _But of course._ If Jaebum himself couldn’t believe that he was choosing to pick up the call, no doubt Jinyoung would only be more shocked. The incubus had always taken rejection poorly, yet simultaneously possessed a stubborn streak equal to his pride. The repeated call was probably the beginnings of an attempt to spam Jaebum with so many calls he'd be forced to either answer or block him entirely.

Jinyoung knew Jaebum well, after all, but this time he'd miscalculated.

Jaebum smirked, cracking his neck as he waited for Jinyoung to make the next move.

The silence lasted for a few more seconds before Jinyoung’s familiar tones finally sounded over the speaker, low and unamused.

“This is Jinyoung. We need to meet.”

Jaebum inhaled sharply at the sound of Jinyoung’s voice, fortunately quiet enough to be inaudible over the phone. It had only been a couple months since he’d heard him last, and yet, it also seemed like a lifetime ago.

So much had changed since then.

“Why? Sorry, but I’m a busy mage, I really don’t have the time. If you require my professional services, however, you may book an appointment through Yugyeom, you know my rates.”

Jaebum kept his tone light and disinterested, and the small huff Jinyoung gave from the other end of the line let Jaebum know he had successfully irked him. Jinyoung was probably rolling his eyes, wearing that disdainfully worn out expression that conveyed just how exhausted he felt when dealing with a situation that was clearly beneath him.

_Dammit, he still remembered his expressions so clearly._

“Why?” Jinyoung was incredulous. “Because you still have a vial of my blood, that you took _without_ my permission or knowledge _,_ and had the _audacity_ to charm in order to keep it active and usable. That is _why_.”

While Jinyoung’s words were clipped, his tone still managed to be infuriatingly polite, nearly matching Jaebum’s level of calm.

Jaebum snorted, a familiar frustration unfurling in his chest at the accusation.

“Now is when you want to know why? Months later? You didn’t seem too keen on listening when I first tried to explain.”

“Oh please,” Jinyoung said scornfully. “Don’t try to twist it - you’re the one who spurned my trust first.”

“What trust?” Jaebum shot back. “If there was trust, you would’ve listened the first time.”

“You -” Jinyoung exhaled noisily, clearly incensed, but not yet ready to relinquish his facade of civility. Jaebum, too, took a breath to calm himself. Without even realizing it, their voices had steadily increased in both volume and passion, yet neither of them was willing to lose control first.

Losing control was a sign of weakness. That, at least, was something they’d always agreed on.

“Fine. I don’t need to know why. Just give it back. I’ll be at Moonshine tomorrow night at 8PM. Be there, and bring it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it didn't take me a year to update this time...lol  
> Happy holidays to everyone, and I'll do my best to keep up the momentum ^^;;  
> As always, comments are the best motivation <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed, as usual

Attention fixed on his phone, Yugyeom almost tripped over the curb, letting out a surprised yelp before righting himself, grabbing onto a nearby lamppost for support. The yellowed light it cast down around him was a flickering, weak presence, but he found it somewhat comforting all the same, shuffling forward to lean his forehead tiredly against the cold metal.

He’d been fixated on his phone all day, peppering a specific pixie tentative messages every so often, each slightly more desperate than the last. And yet, they all seemed to be falling into some unheard void, with not so much as a single word returned back.

Bambam was clearly avoiding him, a frustrating, terrifying situation that Yugyeom had absolutely no experience with. And it was driving him crazy, so much so that he’d been just short of tracking the pixie down personally.

He knew his favorite places to hang out and stay, and Jackson almost assuredly knew of the pixie’s whereabouts. And yet, what could he even do once he found him? This was all his own doing. He was the one who’d ignored Bambam first, not necessarily on purpose, but the effects appeared all too deliberate enough.

Yugyeom’s mind had been in turmoil since their last abrupt parting. He didn’t know how to face Bambam, only that he wasn’t yet ready to reveal the truth, not to mention it really wasn’t his place to. So he’d shut off his phone, choosing to isolate himself from everyone as he tried his best to sort out his thoughts.

He really should’ve known better. Bambam wasn’t vindictive by fae standards, but he was never one to take things on the defensive. Now it was Yugyeom’s turn to get a taste of being ignored, and so here he was, helplessly miserable.

Pushing away from the lamppost, Yugyeom pulled his hood up with a shiver, head tilting up to stare at the large apartment complex before him, eyes drifting to Jaebum’s floor. Despite the closed curtains, Yugyeom could tell the mage had the lights to his penthouse on, the warm glow diffused lightly around the edges of the window.

For the first time, Yugyeom felt the beginnings of resentment stirring for the mage. But guilt was still much more overwhelming, so Yugyeom simply sighed, trudging slowly towards the door as he braced himself to face someone he really didn’t wish to see at the moment.

Jaebum was too perceptive, and Yugyeom really didn’t have the energy to talk through his feelings right now.

~~

As Yugyeom had feared, Jaebum’s eyes were on him the moment he stepped through the door. Stretched out in his favorite armchair with a thick book on his lap, the mage was lounging lazily, his uncombed hair and oversized sweater indicating he had no plans to go out this night.

His gaze, however, was as sharp and as piercing as always. It always made Yugyeom’s hair stand on end, the way Jaebum could simply look at him with his eyes narrowed slightly and make it seem like his thoughts were an open book ready for perusal.

Jaebum definitely did not have mind reading powers, but sometimes Yugyeom swore he did.

“Bambam’s ignoring me. Or avoiding me. Same thing,” Yugyeom admitted tiredly, toeing off his shoes sloppily. Jaebum would’ve gotten it out of him sooner or later, so he might as well take the path of least resistance. “Though I guess I kind of ignored him first, not on purpose, but still, I probably deserve it.”

Jaebum’s brow furrowed briefly, then smoothed. He even let out a half-chuckle, causing Yugyeom to freeze, swinging wide-eyed to look at the mage.

“That would explain it,” Jaebum commented dryly, marking the page of his book before sliding it onto the table beside him. “Jinyoung called me today, suddenly demanding his blood back. I’d assume it has something to do with you and Bambam.”

“Jinyoung-hyung called you?” Yugyeom was in disbelief. “Because of Bambam and me?”

“Most likely,” Jaebum shrugged. “If he’d been that concerned about his blood, he would’ve contacted me much earlier. That’s the only sensible reason why he’s suddenly asking now.”

“But then, why…” Yugyeom shuffled forwards a few steps finally moving out of the entryway, expression clouded as he recalled their last unhappy encounter at Moonshine.

There was no doubt that Jinyoung was furious with him. He’d made that abundantly clear by announcing his displeasure of seeing Bambam in his company, not to mention the disdain in his eyes when he’d glanced at him afterwards. Recalling Jinyoung’s expression was enough to send a painful pang through Yugyeom’s chest - he couldn’t help but compare to just months prior. Then, the incubus would have teased him mercilessly but fondly, his crinkling eyes always betraying his true affection for the golem.

So perhaps it wasn’t impossible for Jinyoung to still hold some concern for him. Yugyeom let out a shaky breath, stomach swirling with a mix of hope and oh-so-familiar shame.

But then again, it was possible Jinyoung was doing this for Bambam’s sake only.

“Are you going to give it back to him?” Yugyeom tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but from the way Jaebum’s head tilted he knew that his emotions were as clear as day to the mage.

“He told me to meet him at Moonshine tomorrow, at 8PM.” Jaebum didn’t give a straight answer, but his fingers began to tap on the armrest of his chair, and Yugyeom knew he was considering it.

“Well, I’ll… I’ll go to bed, then,” Yugyeom finally said somewhat lamely, head dropping as he moved to shuffle towards the hallway. If Jaebum was thinking about it, that was all he could really ask for. He knew better than to push his luck - it took great skill to persuade Jaebum, a talent Yugyeom knew he didn’t possess.

Jinyoung, on the other hand, always had an uncanny knack for swaying the mage.

So Yugyeom allowed his hopes to rise just the slightest bit more.

~~

_13 missed calls._

_45 unread text messages._

Bambam’s fingers hovered over his phone screen, hesitant, before finally tapping in to his inbox.

Scrolling through slowly, he began to gnaw on his bottom lip, flickering uncertainly between conflicting emotions. All the messages were from Yugyeom, as expected.

Well, except for one text from Jackson, but even that was to inform him that Yugyeom had shown up uncharacteristically mopey at Moonshine earlier in the day looking for him, eventually leaving even mopier than he’d arrived.

Sighing, Bambam let his phone’s screen fade to black as he slipped it into his pocket, head tilting back to lean against the brick alley wall behind him. Without the light from his phone, the area was plunged into utter darkness. There was a streetlamp nearby, but it’d gone out just seconds after Bambam had walked past it.

Bambam usually hated being alone, and hated being alone in the dark even more. He was a pixie of the Seelie Court, whose fae much favored light and companionable merriment. It was those of the Unseelie Court who had darker tendencies.

So even though it was quite warm out, not even a cool breeze blowing through to bring any chill, Bambam found himself shivering slightly. The brick against his back was slightly damp, with what exactly Bambam didn’t know nor did he particularly care, but he probably would regret sliding down against it as he sank down into a crouch, exhaling tiredly.

He was uncomfortable here, on edge, but also not yet willing to return to the city of lights and comfort.

He'd come here alone on purpose, an attempt to put some physical distance between himself and his problems. Bambam knew he could be irrational, and those he cared about usually amplified his inability to reason.

Someone once told him that the truth was often uncomfortable, so to face it, sometimes he may need to place himself in uncomfortable situations in order to confront it properly.

That someone had been Jaebum. And as much as Bamban currently distrusted the mage, he still recognized the wisdom of his words.

Bambam had cycled through the emotions of anger, fury, resignation, worry, and frustration, some multiple times and not necessarily in order, once he realized Yugyeom had been avoiding him.

But now, finally drained and calm, he was almost grateful Yugyeom had kept this distance. It became startling clear he'd needed to clear his own head, to get away in order to put things into perspective.

Only _almost_ grateful, though, because he still despised this situation.

But now, if all the missed texts were any indication, Yugyeom was ready to talk again. Bambam clenched his fists, resolving to keep his cool at their next meeting, to calmly hear out the golem, and then to hold his ground in demanding answers. He could do this. He _would_ do it.

A small, hopeful smile found its way onto Bambam’s face, and he finally straightened, pushing himself into a standing position.

The back of his shirt, unsurprisingly, now felt damp thanks to the wall he'd been leaning against. Bambam brushed his fingers against it, cringing from the tacky texture.

_Gross. He knew he'd regret leaning against that wall, and now his shirt was probably be ruined, it'd cost him-_

A blinding flash of light suddenly filled his vision, sending Bambam reeling as he stumbled backwards. It was followed by the sound of shattering glass and he instinctively transformed, reverting to his true form involuntarily as his body took charge.

The light was gone as suddenly as it’d initially exploded, but it took a few seconds longer before Bambam’s vision readjusted to the darkness. His senses were in overdrive, heart pounding and wings flitting erratically as he tried to regain his bearings.

And then it hit him - the stench of blood, and a piercing scream.

~~

“Goddamn sign.”

Displeased mumbles accompanied the stuttered buzz of neon lights, _Moonshine_ flickering on, off, and finally shakily back on again as the large sign finally decided it wasn’t quite ready to give up. Jackson huffed at the lights, shaking his head, before gesturing to his bouncers that they could start letting people in.

The night had barely begun, and yet already a sizeable line had formed outside. Jackson was quick to make his way back to his usual position at the main bar, empty glasses and premade mixers already lined up and ready for the night. The music blasting from the speakers seemed a bit too loud, filling the entire space unimpeded, but that would soon change with the countless bodies ready to take over the dance floor.

“You’re running a bit low on cider,” Mark sidled up to Jackson just as the first few customers approached the bar. Mark watched on fondly as Jackson greeted them, taking their orders with a charismatic grin, moving immediately to make their drinks while already greeting the next few customers in line.

This was all done with smooth, practiced ease, but being the sole bartender meant Jackson only had time to acknowledge Mark’s comment with the briefest smiles.

“You should have enough for tonight, though, and maybe even a second day. Just don’t forget to restock,” Mark decided to leave him with one last reminder before drifting back towards the storage rooms. Jackson didn’t need him up here, and the music really was too loud.

Slipping into a back hallway and through another doorway, Mark flicked on the lights, the noise of the bar reduced to a thrum in the walls as soon as he closed the door. Stepping forward, Mark began to trail his finger along the edge of one of the wooden shelves, taking a moment to admire the satisfying way all the bottles and boxes were lined up just right.

As much as Jackson groaned and moaned about the woes of organizing his back stock, Mark always enjoyed the time they were able to spend together while doing it. Listening to Jackson’s mindless chatter or impassioned rants about whatever topical event as they sorted through boxes of alcohol; the inevitable bickering they slipped into while restocking the highest shelves; and then the rare, comfortable silences they shared, sprinkled with loaded gazes whenever they brushed past each other in an aisle of two particularly close shelves.

Mark was very much a free spirit, but more and more these past few years he found himself becoming anchored to this loud, rowdy, but oh-so-magical bar, relentlessly drawn to the energetic and compassionate shapeshifter that kept this place alive.

Thinking of their upcoming date, Mark couldn’t help but smile. Jackson was so dedicated to Moonshine, to his work and keeping others happy, that Mark had been quite surprised when Jackson had suggested taking a whole night off just for the two of them. Surprised, but then immediately elated.

He knew Jackson held the same sort of feelings for him, though probably more intensely, as much as he hated to admit it. Sylphs rarely felt passionately about anything to begin with, that was just their nature. Shapeshifters, on the other hand, couldn’t be more different. And Jackson, being as infuriatingly considerate and selfless as he was, had never pressed Mark about his intentions, not even when Mark had started to send him mixed signals. Never deliberately, but undeniable all the same.

Mark knew Jackson had been holding back, that he’d been harbouring insecurities and worries about whether there even existed a possibility for something more between them. Theoretically, a shapeshifter and a sylph together sounded preposterous - Mark himself knew of only two sylphs who ever became romantically involved with anyone, and it had been with each other.

Luckily, Mark was ready to break that trend.

Resolve reaffirmed, Mark walked towards the back of the room to where three large armchairs where situated. At first there had only been one for Jackson alone when he wished to take a break, but it'd eventually been joined by two more in quick succession - one for Mark, obviously, but the last for Youngjae. The dryad didn't always join them, but dropped by frequently enough that Jackson had just gone ahead and added it, much to Youngjae’s delight.

_Right, Youngjae…_

Mark paused in his step, brow furrowing. He'd almost forgotten that he hadn't seen the tree nymph all day, not since he'd travelled to the Northern Woods with him. The damage had been bad, and rejuvenating the land after such a traumatic event was always a difficult task, but Youngjae should've been back by this morning.

Mark reached for his phone, but quickly stopped with a groan - no, Youngjae didn't have a phone. The dryad’s distaste for all things electronic and manmade unsurprisingly included cellular devices. Which Mark could relate to - he himself had been resistant to getting one himself for the longest time, and even after Jackson insisted he had a penchant for losing one every couple of months. Still, at times like this he admitted they were quite useful.

Mark sighed, rubbing at his brow. It shouldn't be a big deal. It was probably nothing. But he'd be lying to himself if he were to dismiss the inexplicable bad feeling stirring up in his core, and his instincts rarely led him astray.

That forest fire…

Abruptly, Mark turned on his heel, relinquishing his human form as he took to the wind - no, became the wind. Boxes rattled has he swiftly exited the room, slipping out easily through the space between the door and floor, not forgetting to flick off the lights with a tiny, focused burst of air.

Jackson was immediately aware of his presence when he swooped down beside him, shivering involuntariy when Mark whispered a message in his ear.

“But Mark, no wait not tonight, you can't just -”

Jackson reached out only to grasp at nothing, earning a few strange looks from customers nearby. Jackson immediately pulled back his hand, scratching his head sheepishly, and by then it was too late. Mark had circled him one last time before swooshing out the door, leaving Jackson to mutter petulantly under his breath.

“Great, now I have to deal with those high maintenance idiots by myself…”

~~

Jinyoung was running late. Usually, he hated people who were disrespectful of others’ time and would never be hypocritical enough to be late himself, but this was a rare case where his tardiness was purposeful.

After all, the idea of sitting alone at the bar, waiting solely for Jaebum to show up, was enough to fill him with disgust more overwhelming than being a bit of a hypocrite for once.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Jaebum to be similarly late, his timing oh-so-perfect that they somehow approached the front door of Moonshine at the same exact time.

Jinyoung’s step faltered as he caught sight of him, only for the briefest of moments, but he knew Jaebum would’ve noticed all the same.

Jaebum looked good. It was unfair, how good he looked, decked out in black leather that hugged his thighs and emphasized the broadness of his shoulders. He’d gone all out with his accessories, fingers heavy with half a dozen rings and his studded ears sporting just as many shiny trinkets. His dark hair was pushed up and back to reveal his forehead, his slanted eyes glinting with a sharp focus that complimented the smirk of his lips.

Jinyoung found himself straightening his posture - not that he’d been slouching before - and for just a fraction of a second, wished he’d put more effort into his own appearance, angry at Jaebum for making him feel one-upped already. But that weakness passed quickly, his anger transforming into disappointment in himself for thinking so foolishly.

Recomposed, Jinyoung was quick to move in front of the mage, pulling open the door and gestured inwards with a sweep of his arm.

“After you.”

Now it was Jaebum’s turn to pause, though he was quick to break out into a dry chuckle, dipping his head in acknowledgement as he stepped through the door first.

Jinyoung exhaled, bracing himself for what was to come as he followed Jaebum in.

At this time, Moonshine was far from empty, but also nowhere near as packed as it would be later in the night. As such, they were able to weave their way through the crowd easily, approaching the main bar with just a few long strides.

Jackson had noticed their entrance immediately, eying them warily with a disapproving look on his face despite the half apologetic smile Jinyoung sent his way. There was no surprise, though, so Jinyoung’s message must’ve reached him.

Jinyoung knew how much Jackson despised drama, so Jinyoung had thought it’d only be courteous to let him know ahead of time that he may be bringing a piping hot serving of it to his cherished establishment.

Taking their seats at two tall bar stools, two mugs were promptly slid in front of them, each filled to the brim with bubbling, golden liquid. Jaebum’s brow furrowed, raising a single hand to get Jackson’s attention.

“Could I get -”

“Nope. I’d be happy to bring you a drink of your choice if and when you two finish your business without causing a ruckus,” Jackson cut Jaebum off huffily, not even sparing them a look as he began to wipe down the countertops. Jaebum’s frown deepened, but soon relaxed, shaking his head as he settled into his seat, pushing his drink away from him with a distasteful expression on his face.

Jinyoung, on the other hand, only looked amused, taking a generous sip from his own mug before beginning to speak.

“Look, I don’t want to cause a scene, either. This doesn’t need to be a complicated ordeal. Just return my blood to me, and I can be on my way.”

Jaebum didn’t answer immediately, instead crossing his arms, is eyes travelling up and down Jinyoung’s figure as he appraised him.

Jinyoung felt a flush creep up the back of his neck, though anger was more the cause than shame or embarrassment. Still, he kept his fury in check, mirroring Jaebum’s crossed arms as he stiffened his spine.

When Jaebum still didn’t speak, however, Jinyoung began to get impatient.

“Seriously, I can’t understand you. It’s my blood, it belongs to me, you took it without my permission. You can’t possibly be expecting something in return from me when I’m demanding back what is justifiably mine. Give it.”

“So, are you just demanding it back, or are you demanding an explanation, too?”

Jaebum finally spoke, tone surprisingly serious as the smirk finally slipped off his face. But Jinyoung wasn’t paying attention to that, needing all his self control to bite back his instinctual retort, one that involved coarse language and escalating the situation. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth.

“Does it matter, what I want? Even if I asked for an explanation, you’d just say it’s too late now anyways, wouldn’t you?” Jinyoung finally shook his head, tone bitter. “And why would I ask when I don’t trust your word regardless?”

“Now that’s just it,” Jaebum barked out a laugh, seriousness gone as quickly as it’d come, though the tightness in his jaw suggested a frustration contrary to the careless grin he now wore. “Of course, there’s no trust. Here, have it.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened as a glass vial was launched at him, his body reacting before his brain as his hand flew up to catch the small container in his palm. Fist closing tightly around it, he shot Jaebum a glare, only to see the mage suddenly raise his previously abandoned mug, taking two large swigs.

Suddenly, Jinyoung felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach, the cold glass in his palm sending a chill through him as he watched Jaebum push the mug aside once more, an uncharacteristic grimace twisting his features.

Jaebum never drank anything short of the finest wine and spirits, and would never force himself to settle for something below his standards. Jaebum never gulped his drink like some uncultured drunkard, only ever taking measured sips from decorated glasses that he would twirl between his fingers. Jaebum’s jaw only ever tensed like that when he was truly upset, when he believed he’d been wronged.

Jinyoung’s breath quickened as Jaebum stood and pushed away from the bar, face freshly composed, shooting Jinyoung a polite but oh-so-fake smile.

Jinyoung was missing something, he had missed something. He was wrong about something, something horribly important but he didn’t know _what-_

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way now, since you have what you want.” Jaebum’s smile was impeccable, but Jinyoung found himself beginning to shake his head, mouth opening to protest except he didn’t know where he could even begin.

Luckily, he didn’t have to think of anything. The very next moment, they were interrupted by a frantic Jackson, his eyes wide and expression panicked as he latched onto Jinyoung’s arm.

“I need - Jinyoung, could you - I, I, Bambam just called, he needs help, _now_ , there was a dead body, could you watch the bar for me, please, I need to find him.”

Jackson’s words came out in a jumbled rush, his nails digging painfully into Jinyoung’s arm. The words “dead body” also managed to capture Jaebum’s attention, who turned to look sharply at the shapeshifter.

“Wait, what happened? Jackson, calm down!” Jinyoung shot up from his seat, reaching out to grasp Jackson’s shoulder lest he run off then and there. “Where is he?”

“He, he sent me his GPS location,” Jackson fumbled for his phone, finally releasing his painful hold on Jinyoung’s arm. Jinyoung grimaced, rubbing at it absently as he cast his eyes out over the bar. Already, there were customers looking their way curiously, the few in line at the main bar looking especially impatient.

“Jackson, I can’t watch the bar for you, I don’t know how to make drinks! You’d have to close down for the night,” Jinyoung tried to reason with the shapeshifter, who finally pulled up the location on his phone. Jinyoung leaned in to see, reaching a decision before he had time to fully consider the implications.  “You stay here, Jackson. Jaebum and I will go to Bambam. Whatever the situation is, we’ll be able to handle it, don’t worry.”

“What?!”

Jaebum and Jackson both swiveled to stare at Jinyoung, shocked, and only then did Jinyoung realize what he’d suggested. He winced inwardly, but held his ground, speaking much more calmly than he felt.

“It’s what makes sense. Are we going to keep wasting time, or..?”

“No, Jinyoung’s right. Let’s go,” Jaebum was able to shake off his disbelief first, meeting Jinyoung’s eyes with an unreadable look in his own. Jaebum was conflicted, Jinyoung could tell that much, but his voice also held a decisiveness that Jinyoung couldn’t ignore. He swallowed, holding Jaebum’s gaze with what he hoped was a steeled stare.

With Jinyoung and Jaebum reaching an unexpected agreement so quickly, Jackson could only acquiesce, looking on worriedly as the two swiftly departed together.

From the back, they looked eerily similar - matching statures, the same upright posture, even their steps strangely in sync. But despite being side-by-side, there was a distance between them, one so large Jackson could only wonder if it could ever be closed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I'm alive, and JJP finally interact in person! Only took four chapters and 18k+... oops?
> 
> In all seriousness, I’m always blown away by how people manage to find this fic and leave such sweet comments even long after the last update, and as always these comments are why I can find the motivation to continue. So thank you, they are much appreciated <3


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